Someone Who Can Satisfy
by Geekery15
Summary: Because of her honor she played games. Because of her honor she got in trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Someone Who Can Satisfy  
><strong>Author: <strong>Geekery  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG.13  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Suspense/Comedy/Romance/Drama  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Because of her honor she played games. Because of her honor she got in trouble.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Possibly  
><strong>Feedback: <strong>I would be delighted.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<br>"**Stop"****

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that staying at a hotel was a bad idea. The privacy of a master suite was thought to be romantic, but she knew better.

She knew her husband better than she knew herself. A truth so honest, yet a truth so frightening.

But who was her husband? Everything and everyone, but obviously someone she did not love.

Of course much like everything else in her life, her picture of love had been distorted since she was a small child. It had its honors and its pride, but it lacked its passion and its tenderness. Love, to her, was like another notch in a warriors belt. Another level to reach and another level one must survive all the way through until the very end.

Unfortunately for her, blood came before the end, and so did the bumps and bruises.

Jackson knew from the moment he saw her that she was the one who could hold him when he needed to be held together and the one who could put him back together when the pieces would fall. He knew she would be his go-to-girl, no matter the need, no matter the want, and no matter the time of day; any-day…everyday, so it seemed.

He loved her for her earthy vibes. He loved her for her strength. He loved her for her abilities. He even loved her for her independency.

She was a young woman with experience in everything that happened in ones life, and more. He was a slightly older man with the same, and together they were an unstoppable team.

But when she saw the body of an innocent Marine on the floor of the bathroom, she wanted to break free from the madness.

She wanted it all to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Jackson is not Jackson Gibbs. Sorry for any confusion. Thanks for the reviews, hopefully I can keep things interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<br>**"**Details"**

The quick mechanical sound of the camera went off like a gun shot through her stomach, but she hardly flinched. DiNozzo stepped around her, the arm of his NCIS jacket rushing against her own.

"Look alive, David." He barked as if he were in charge.

McGee rolled his eyes behind DiNozzo's back and carried on with scanning the bathroom for with his eyes.

"Where are your gloves, McStoop?"

"I haven't touched anything yet, Tony." His sigh so full of annoyance. "You always want to take pictures so how about you take them?"

"Do I detect hostility in your weakened voice, McFluff?"

McGee thinks of rising from his kneeling position to say something back, but thinks otherwise when he catches the twinkle in DiNozzo's eyes.

"…because you know when it's all said and done, I am the senior agent and I am-"

"The one who is going to wind up taking a taxicab home if you don't the hell shut up, DiNozzo!" Gibbs barks. "Why don't you go outside and wait in the hallway."

"For what boss?"

"For Ducky and Palmer." He winces. "Go, DiNozzo."

"Yes, boss."

Tony brushes past Ziva again, the twinkle in his eyes are much more dim now that he has been yelled at, but it still very much is there. "It's all you, David."

She makes a silly and annoyed face to satisfy what she knows he expects on a daily basis, but the strength she used to do so made her even more tired than she already was.

"Whoever did this knew what they were doing, boss." McGee finally stands. "I can't find any evidence around the body that could have been left behind."

"Hopefully Ducky can pull something from the body." Gibbs stands next to McGee and looks to the floor and the body at the same angle. Just then a professional looking man appears by the bathroom door. "…Can I help you?"

"Yes. I wonder wondering what time this room would be ready?"

Gibbs knits his eyebrows while Ziva turns her back and walks slowly away from the door and the man standing by it. "Ready for what?"

"For a customer." He takes notice to the dead body, but doesn't even bat an eye.

"There isn't going to be any customer until we're positive that there's nothing here." Gibbs pauses. "This is a crime scene until further notice."

"This is the biggest suite this hotel has." The man practically whines.

"Sorry." Gibbs shrugs. "Until further notice."

The man scoffs and vanishes as quickly as he came in. Gibbs just stares at the now empty door frame and squints his eyes.

McGee wait's a few more seconds before opening his mouth. "I find it kind of strange that he didn't mind being near a dead body…"

"He didn't do it." Gibbs says firmly. "He's an idiot."

* * *

><p>Inside the squad-room DiNozzo entertains himself with a pastrami sandwich while his partners busy themselves with the orders they were given.<p>

Ziva sits quietly at her desk and tries to wait patiently for her email to load.

"Why so serious, Zee-vah?" DiNozzo asks from around his sandwich.

"Are you speaking to me, Tony?"

"I did say your name…didn't I?" He makes a weird face. "Are you trying to set me up for a trick?"

"Why would I want to trick you?"

"I don't know. You're a woman, aren't you?" He looks to McGee quickly. "Do you know something that I don't know, Probie?"

"You're paranoid." McGee remarks. "Maybe something they put in that sandwich."

"This sandwich was made by the hands of an angel."

"Which number is she for the week, Tony?" Ziva asks him; a smirk dances across her lips. "Is she legal?"

"You're so funny I forgot to laugh." He retorts, but gets back to his sandwich and minding 'most' of his business.

Ziva and McGee grin at one another.

* * *

><p>Ducky rounds the metal table as Gibbs crosses his arms firmly over his chest.<p>

"I am running tests on what I hope is a partial fingerprint, but nothing is definite."

"The body was wrapped in plastic?"

"Yes. From his collar down to his ankles." Ducky walks to the other side of the table and points to the plastic that he removed from the body. "Someone found the time to take his clothes off, shoot him, wrap his body in tight plastic, and redress him."

Gibbs uncrosses his arms. "Drugs in his system?"

"Not a single one."

"Signs of sexual activity?"

"I did not find any residue or any signs of protection.

"Was he getting ready to take a shower?" Gibbs almost sounds desperate.

"If he was on his way to cleanse himself, my instincts tell me he did not succeed." Ducky is quiet for a moment. "He doesn't smell clean."

"What does he smell like?" Gibbs takes a step closer to the body.

"I'll save you the trouble." Ducky puts his hand out and motions to Palmer.

"Uh, well, you see-"

Gibbs ignores Palmer, gets closer to the body, and inhales quickly. "He smells like a cigarette."

"Cigar, actually." Palmer corrects him while putting his index finger in the air.

Gibbs gives him a dark look.

"But tobacco is tobacco…" Palmer squeaks uneasily, then realizes Ducky is giving him the look that means he should 'disappear' for a little while. "I think I hear Abby calling me."

Palmer disappears within seconds and the doors slide shut behind him.

"Abby should be reporting to you in the next hour or so."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs says before strolling through the automatic doors.

* * *

><p>Gibbs enters the squad-room quickly; the ends of his jacket flapping in the wind. "I hope you're not eating on my time, DiNozzo."<p>

Tony uses his tongue to lick off the mustard in the corner of his mouth. "Certainly not, boss."

Gibbs rolls his eyes before grabbing his last half of the sandwich and throwing it in the garbage. "Get to work."

Ziva and Mcgee hold their breaths so they can hear Tony's heart breaking in a million pieces.

"I'm on it boss, but did you really have to treat my sandwich like that?" Tony gives him a slanted look. "The pastrami didn't do anything to you. The pastrami didn't do anything to anyone. The pastrami is your friend…the pastrami wants to be your friend."

Gibbs walks back to DiNozzo's desk and dumps his drink in the trash. Without a single word, he returns to his desk.

"Okay. The pastrami is not your friend." He manages to get out quickly.

"What did Ducky find?" McGee decides to bring the focus back to the case.

"Hopefully a partial print." Gibbs perches himself on his desk. "Hodge's body was wrapped in plastic when Ducky removed his clothes."

"I knew there had to have been a reason he was fully clothed and lying on a bathroom floor." Tony says while stilling his hands on the keyboard. "What killed him?"

"Three bullets to the chest and one to the stomach."

Tony makes a face as he puts his hand over his slightly full stomach.

"The plastic was used to keep the blood from getting the place messy."

Ziva shifts in her chair as the details of the case are beginning to show themselves for the first time.

McGee sits there and calculates for a moment. "That means he wasn't dressed before he got shot…otherwise his clothes would be bloody."

Tony glares at McGee for being brighter than he at the moment.

"Yeah. We got that already, MaGee." Gibbs says with a slight attitude. "Hodge's body also reeks of tobacco."

"Chain smoker?" Tony blurts.

"I thought I left you in charge of reading his file?" Gibbs darkens his eyes.

"You did, but the network has been slow all week…" Tony thinks quickly. "McGeek probably fried the memory by having one of his Battlestar Galactica Convention Meetings."

"It's called War of Warcraft!" McGee nearly hollers.

"FOCUS!" Gibbs growls at two of his agents. "DiNozzo, get off that damn computer and head down to the Marine base. Find out anything about Hodge that could help us figure out who did this to him." He tosses a look to McGee. "Go with him."

"You're giving me, Probie?" Gibbs makes a face, but grabs his back quickly in the process. "Last one to the elevator doesn't get to drive!"

McGee chooses to take his time as he recalls the same declaration from Tony a week ago where he was in the lead on the rush to the elevator until Tony purposely tripped him.

"Ziva, you're with me." Gibbs says in his normal tone of voice.

"Where are we going?" She asks as easily as she can.

"Hodge's residence." He opens his desk drawer and retrieves his weapon and badge. "Inform his family."

Ziva feels the vibration just then from her personal cell phone. Knowing exactly who it is, she ignores it as best she can and reaches for her own desk draw to retrieve her weapons.

After several minutes they both find themselves waiting in front of the elevator.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get used to this." She mutters more to herself than him.

"Only if you're heartless."

The elevator makes its usual sound and the steel doors begin to divide.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**  
><strong>"Disagreement"<strong>

She hated how he always had a way of romanticizing his actions, but she still found herself helping him pick out new clothes at the department store after work.

He was a well-dressed man, but with a certain comfortable look about him. Suit jackets were a must, but ties were not. He was stylish and handsome, and at one time his attractiveness had spoken to her like no one ever did before.

He was a wise man and he knew not only the ways of the world and his place in the world, but he also remembered his size in clothing and shoes whether his one true love was right there with him.

In the next second she heard a loud, dull thud behind her and ended up sending a hanger and its shirt to the floor.

"Just a cardboard box." Jackson assured her.

Her distaste for him could not be hidden, nor did she want it to be. She knew what he did and he knew, too.

"You're upset with me." He states, knowing their usual roundabout. "It seems pointless, Ziva. You will love me anyway. You will love me like you always have."

"No." She growls while facing him full-on. "You murder people."

"I am ordered to murder people." He corrects her while moving in closer to her. "Don't do this here."

"Then where?"

He nods to one of the workers. "I'd like these."

"Would you like these wrapped, Mr. Carter?"

"No. Just charge them to my account and have them sent to my apartment." He instructs.

"Right away, Mr. Carter.

* * *

><p>The tiny size of her kitchen should make it warm, but instead the cold circles her like an ice blanket.<p>

Jackson lifts the kettle and pours water into his mug. The tea bag inside begins to work its magic and soon the tan liquid is a dark brown. Reaching for her bottle of honey, he squeezes a small amount inside his mug before turning around to face her.

"I thought you quit."

Ziva takes a drag from her cigarette, but does not answer.

He smirks at her coldness, knowing that in a few days she will be back to her usual self. The person he can rely on to help him get through his ups and downs.

"I'll be away for a few days." He blows on his tea momentarily. "New York. To help a friend." He pauses. "I owe him."

"Another friend. Was the Marine from last night a help to friend?"

"Yes." He keeps it simple like he always does. "I'm sure you understand how much friends mean to one another." His hazel eyes morph into another color. "They must teach you that and remind you of it everyday while you're working."

"The people I work with, they are good people."

"Oh, I know they are." He smirks. "And I know how much they mean to you. That's why I leave them to do their jobs and in return I hope they will leave me to do my own." He clears his throat, then sets his drinking mug down on the counter. "You know, Ziva…I would hate to find a problem in this arrangement that we have."

"NCIS does not specialize in keeping murderers safe." She inhales from her cigarette. "They are criminal investigators. We…'we' are criminal investigators." She mentally scolds herself because of her slight error.

Jackson is behind her now. His hands running up and down her arms for a minute or so, but when she starts to feel the chill biting at the end of her spine, he notices her discomfort and firmly places his hands on the tops of her shoulders, then presses down ever-so-slightly.

"Do you remember the day we met?" He asks as his mind takes him to that very moment. "You took my breath away."

Behind his hands, she feels her blood begin to boil, but chooses to sit as still as she possibly can.

"I knew that despite where we can from and despite our differences, we still had one thing in common." He sighs; dreamily. "We kill because we're good at it." He pushes down on her shoulders harder so he can stop her from speaking. "I don't give a shit whether you choose to kill once or twice out of the month because you are only following what you've been taught at work. The point is you kill and when you do, you do it with the ease that you always have. You take pride in it." His hands grip her shoulders tightly now. "Just like our marriage."

She tries to take another drag from her cigarette, but her lips are shaking.

"I don't want to do this anymore." She says quietly, on the verge of tears.

"But you will." He enforces. "You always do, Ziva. You always do." He lets go of her shoulders and walks away from her and picks up his drinking mug again. "You know how much I need you."

"I've got someone you could meet with. He'll give you the information you need to move forward with the case." He waits for her to look him in the eyes, but she does not. "That way the case is completed and I stay out of trouble."

"This is wrong."

"So is everything else in life." He shrugs. "It never has stopped us before."

"Damn it, Jackson! I understood when I was doing the same thing more or less, but I'm not anymore. For the last two years I've been operating under the control of Gibbs and his team; of NCIS, and I can't sit back and watch people get killed."

"Nonsense. You did not see anyone kill that Marine last night."

She opens her mouth at his heartlessness, but words are unable to come from her mouth.

"Jackson, please-"

He slams his mug into the sink and a crack can be heard through her tiny kitchen.

"NO!" He hollers. "What the hell do you expect me to do, Ziva? He is already dead and many more will die. This is what I do. This is my line of work." His eyes are nearly black now. "…and as much as you want out, such a thing doesn't exist. You're in this with me and you're up to your fucking neck in it." He towers over her with his hands on his waist. "Cry about it if you have to, but get over it, and fast."

She stands abruptly; tired of his dominance.

"I will not!" She snaps.

He grabs her elbow roughly and jerks her to him, and waits until she looks at him.

"Stop being a fucking Girl Scout."

"I want a divorce." She blurts around unshed tears.

He holds on to her with a temper that is ready to burst, but just as the air becomes thicker around them, he roughly lets her go so that it feels like a push, and laughs knowingly as he walks out of her kitchen and out of her apartment door.

She stands there unable to physically move, though her mind is racing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone, for the great reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>  
><strong>"Habits"<strong>

These days temptation ran deep for Ziva. Now all she needed to do was witness someone smoking in the park where they picked up the dead body or the bar when the team got away for a few drinks every so often, or even when she drove to work in the morning and spotted someone standing on the sidewalk; smoking.

She did her best to stifle her urges, but when the cases they investigated consisted of victims she knew met their doom because of Jackson, she formed a number of excuses to leave her desk for five or ten minutes.

She could not smoke inside headquarters. Not even a quick drag in the bathroom, women's or men's, would end successfully.

Smoking was the least of her worries anyway. Jackson was practically out of control.

* * *

><p>The elevator doors divided and the dashing Anthony DiNozzo nearly glided out of the metal box and appeared next to his desk. His sunglasses most likely as expensive as his suit.<p>

"It's Christmas time in the city…" He opened his arms wide to add to what he hoped was the best greeting his teammates ever had the pleasure of viewing.

"Good morning to you, too, Tony." McGee says in an even tone.

"You bet your ass it is, McGeek!" His eyes begin to dance even more wild than they already are. "It's such a good morning I can hardly contain myself."

"It isn't Christmas yet, Tony." Ziva says.

"No, but in a matter of weeks it will be." He sighs with such satisfaction. "Yes, and because of this cold, but warm time of year, all of the Anthony's Angels are going to be burning up my phone line; desperate to spend some much needed snuggle time with me."

McGee and Ziva take a moment to look at each other before rolling their eyes.

"I never thought I would meet someone that is so gutterly self-centered."

DiNozzo narrows his eyes. "Utterly." He looks at her raise her eyebrows. "Utterly…not gutterly." He wait's a moment. "…and I'm not self-centered, I just know better." He taps at his chest with both hands. "I mean, just look at me. Aren't I prize?"

"If you were given to me as a prize, I would use all of the strength I had to give you back."

McGee begins to chuckle at Ziva's comment, but soon closes his mouth when he notices Gibbs stepping out of the elevator.

"You just don't know what good taste is." Tony retorts, slightly offended.

"What is good taste, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asks as he stands before his senior agent.

McGee and Ziva look intently at the two men and try their best to be patient for Tony's answer.

"…something you wake up with every morning, Boss." Tony dusts the top of one of Gibbs shoulders. "Look at you, Mr. Handsome."

McGee's eyes nearly jump out of his skull and land near his feet, while Ziva puts a wacky look on her face.

"You're not going to ask me out on a date, are you DiNozzo? Because I'm not cheap." Gibbs throws back, then turns to leave his senior agent stunned and finds his desk.

McGee is on the ground, searching to for his eyeballs at this point. Ziva catches a small glance from Gibbs and smirks to herself. Her ever-so-serious boss has a few funny bones inside of him.

Tony's face is completely red, do he decides to sit and keep quiet before he breaks into a sweat at his boss' unusualness.

"So what's on the menu this morning, boss?" McGee says with a carefree attitude.

"I never thought picking up dead bodies was something people put on menus." Gibbs glares at his agent's stupid question. "…even so, there isn't anything we need to investigate today."

"SWEET!" Tony stands up and reaches for his sunglasses that he just took off. "I've got a million and one thing to do before the Holidays get here so if you wouldn't mind-"

"DINOZZO!" Gibbs hollers as he stands. "SIT DOWN. NOW." Shaking his head, he waits for his energetic agent to find his seat again. "…the NCIS banquet is tomorrow night and they are honoring several important people. Director Shepard has personally requested that we are there to make sure that the event runs smoothly."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that." Tony speaks more to himself than the rest of them. "I guess it's that time of the year where I'll get to knock 'em dead." Three pairs of annoyed eyes stare back at him. "I was kidding…naturally…" He lifts his left eyebrow and the left corner of his mouth. "..really."

"We'll meet here. We'll travel together. We'll leave together." Gibbs informs his team members.

"So I guess we're just there to do our jobs?" Tony's voice is as disappointed as disappointed can be.

"That is the general idea, DiNozzo." Gibbs rounds his desk. "Going for coffee."

DiNozzo waits until Gibbs vanishes inside the elevator, then opens his mouth.

"What a crappy deal. We finally have a chance to attend the NCIS Banquet and we've got to work?" He makes a disgusted face. "What are we-nobodies?"

"I am sure we will be allowed to mingle with the rest of the guests as if we are guests, Tony."

He looks at Ziva as if she has three heads. "Wishful thinking. With Gibbs there he'll clamp a muzzle on all of our mouths."

"I was under the impression that you were the only one that needed one of those." McGee smiles devilishly at Tony.

"Keep it up, Probie." DiNozzo threatens.

McGee catches Ziva grinning at his comment.

* * *

><p>Jackson takes a seat at his dining room table; ready to enjoy his meal. Ziva sits across from him at the opposite end, an ashtray in front of her and a cigarette in her hand.<p>

"You aren't eating?"

"I have already eaten." She says easily.

He shrugs, then reaches for his fork and begins to stab at the lettuce leaves that are piled on a part of his plate. While his taste buds dance with the flavors of the dressing, Ziva stares at him as if looks could kill.

Ignoring her intense stare, he takes another bite of his salad. "Milton saw you today, at the corner…" He takes a sip of his red wine. "…it was pretty early in the day."

"It was five o'clock."

"That's early for you." He puts his wine glass down. "Why weren't you at work?"

She wants to take the innocent look on his face and crush it from underneath her boots.

"Ziva?"

"Surprisingly we did not have a case." She grits her teeth slightly. "Surprisingly we did not have a _dead_ body that _you_ left behind somewhere."

He stops chewing, then snorts a little while shaking his head. "You can't seriously be mad about that." He grins now. "I'm responsible for your day off."

"I did not have a day off. I had a day without a case." She corrects him.

"Same difference, sweetheart." He tosses at her like she is as worthless as he is, though he will never admit that to himself. "Anyway, on to bigger and better things…" He wipes his mouth with his napkin. "I took the night off so we could go out for dinner."

"I refuse to go anywhere with you, Jackson."

"I find that hard to believe when you came to me tonight. Last night, even." He leans back in his chair. "I'm not sure why you're trying to fight what you feel for me. Hopefully in time, in a _short_ amount of time, you will realize how childish it all is."

"I came here to insist on you giving me what I want."

"You came here with the same insistence last night and we both know you did not leave here until morning." He smiles knowingly at her. "You just love the way I make you purr, Ziva."

She shifts somewhat uncomfortably in her chair, but inhales from her cigarette in hopes it will relieve some of the strain.

"You know what I want." She speaks clearly. "…and it isn't that."

"You took it _all_ gladly." He drips with smugness. "You want to divorce me? Then find someone who can satisfy your every little need. Then…then we might just see about you getting what you want."

"The only need I have right now is for my sanity!" She crushes the cigarette into the ashtray. "I need to know that every morning I am not going to be faced with the reality of informing someone that their loved ones were found dead in an alley, or the park, or the subway."

"I'm not the one the blame for all of those bad memories you have, Ziva."

"Damn it Jackson, this is not funny!" She stands from her chair. "You grant me the divorce and you get out of my life. For good."

"I won't." He says calmly. "I need you, Ziva."

"You are killing me, Jackson. Inside, you are killing me." Her breath becomes somewhat shaky.

"You married for honor, no?"

"I married you because I understood what you had to do in life. I understood because I too had to do the same thing, but you have lost _all_ control now. You _enjoy_ yourself now."

He puts his fork down. "You make me out to be a monster."

"You are a monster!" She says it so disgustedly.

He laughs. "I know what I am, Ziva, and I also know that I am not stupid." He clears his throat. "You want me to give you a divorce so when the next body falls in your path all you have to do is rat me out?" His eyes begin to glisten and turn pink as if they are inching their way closer to catching on fire. "Giving you a divorce will kill me!"

"After the things you have done, I can not find a single reason to feel sorry for you."

Pushing his chair out from underneath as he stands, he throws his napkin over his nearly full dinner plate. "If you think I'm going to give you what you want so I can get fucked in the end, you're sadly mistaken." He points his finger at her with such rage. "We went in this together and we'll get out of this together if the day ever comes. If it comes." He leaves his place and begins walking over to her, "…because if I ever find out that you've told anyone about who I am, what I do, and how you know me, I'll make sure I get rid of them before I get rid of you." He tucks his chin in slightly as his eyebrows grow heavy over his eyes. "I fucking _promise_ you."

Ziva takes a step back to only tighten the ball that her hand has now made. In seconds she takes a step forward and raises her hand, but he catches it and twists her hand until her arm feels the sharp pain.

"Easy there, Ziva." He uses his other hand to move her shirt collar slightly away from her neck. "Wouldn't want to get another one of those so soon…"

With smoky eyes, she takes a step back and waits for him to release her fist. When he does, she fixes her collar, to hide the black and blue.

"You should wear those colors more often." He teases. "Just like me, they look good on you." He winks, then leans in to give her a rough kiss on her cheek. "I suggest you find something to eat before you head back to your apartment. I don't want my beautiful wife to starve to _death_."

Stepping away from her, he walks over to the staircase that leads to his study. "…Till tomorrow, Sweetheart."

"I-I…I have somewhere to be tomorrow night." She manages to get out. "A Banquet...for work."

He shrugs. "I can cancel our plans. Have fun."

Turning around she watches as he disappears inside his study. Standing there, she is frozen, but her mind can't help but race. It is a feeling so usual for her these days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
><strong>**"Honesty"**

Gibbs stands in the main lobby of the dining hall; alert. His hair is cut slightly shorter indicating that he must have used some of his free time during the afternoon to give himself a haircut.

DiNozzo stands next to him with the most debonair aura the NCIS Banquet has probably ever seen, and he certainly knows it, too.

"A little overdressed, DiNozzo?" Gibbs cracks.

"Does it show?" He asks with a knowing expression. "I couldn't help myself boss, I got tied up watching a Cary Grant marathon on TCM last night." A young woman literally prances past him and bats her eyes long enough to get her message across. "…what was I saying?"

Gibbs looks at his love-struck Agent and shakes his head. "Remember, you're working."

"Work?" His expression confused. "Oh yeah…work." His shoulders fall a little. "I could at east get her number for another time." He says more to himself than Gibbs.

"I shouldn't be hearing this." Gibbs states.

"Come on Boss, we're practically buddies."

Gibbs narrows his eyes. "I _don't_ want to be hearing this." Turning around he looks for his other two agents. "Where's Ziva and McGee?"

"No idea. I could go look for them?" He asks hopefully.

"Mind your post." Gibbs mutters, then leaves to find them himself.

DiNozzo sighs, wishing he could get that woman's number in the process of finding his partners. Gibbs knew of this, of course.

* * *

><p>Gibbs grins as he notices the Director is being bombarded with people whose names she probably has forgotten, if she even knew them all. She glances at him quickly with a look of terror in the dead center of her pupils, but he doesn't think twice about coming to her rescue.<p>

"The Director seems blustered." Ziva appears next to him.

He turns to her, "Clustered." He corrects her. "She'll be alright. With a dress like that, she was asking for the attention."

Ziva grins at her superior's comment, but agrees. "Yes. The dress is beautiful."

"Expensive, too." He comments easily. "Where's McGee?"

"The last time I checked he was on his way to the men's room." She looks at her watch and shrugs. "He should be out by now."

"Unless he fell in."

She knits her eyebrows. "Fell into what?"

Gibbs studies her face for a quick minute, then breaks into a grin when he realizes she seriously is unaware of what he means. "Be back."

Gibbs steps to the side of her, before leaving her there to find McGee.

* * *

><p>DiNozzo wanders even further from his post. It's an itch that needed to be scratched so he regrets nothing, except for the head-slap he will most likely receive from one very angry Gibbs.<p>

"PSST!" He is loud, yet soft.

Ziva turns around as a reaction to the sound. When she sees him, she turns around quickly. Coming closer to her, he stands to the side of her and keeps his eyes focused on the people traveling back and forth in front of them.

"This sucks." He manages to say like a whiny child. "We could be anywhere in the world tonight."

"Why would I go anywhere with you, Tony?" Ziva questions.

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" She rocks back and forth on her heels, then stops when she remembers something. "What does it mean when one falls into something?"

He stops the slight swaying he did not even realize he was doing, to look at her and lift one of his eyebrows. "What?"

She turns to look at him for a moment, then returns to watching everybody else. "When one falls into something, what does that mean?"

His face scrunches into even more confusion. "Well…it can mean a lot of things, Ziva…" He clears his throat. "…it just all depends on the situation."

"Okay. Bathroom."

He takes a longer pause than he needs to. "…excuse me?"

"What if one falls into something in the bathroom?"

He smirks. "Who'd you shove down the toilet, Ziva, and for what reason?" He leans back a little, clearly checking out her behind. "I know this event called more for a skirt or dress, but you've got on a very nice fitting pair of pants on."

She whips around and tries to kill him with her eyes, but she fails when she sees it only excites him. "You are disgusting."

"Well, I'm a lot of things, but disgusting is really a poor choice of words." His smirk forms into a smile. "So what's the answer, Zee-vah?"

"I never once entered the bathroom since arriving here."

"Then what's with all this bathroom talk?"

"I want to know because Gibbs mentioned it to me earlier."

"Gibbs mentioned…what…exactly?"

"He mentioned that McGee might have fell in." She turns to face him fully now. "What does it mean?"

He laughs. "It means that McGee probably fell into the toilet if he's taking such a long time to get out."

"That is disgusting." She wait's a minute more.

"As disgusting as me?" He grins.

"No. Not quite." She grins back at him.

He blinks, but keeps the grin on his face when he notices the woman that literally threw herself at him earlier.

"Do you know her, Tony?" Ziva asks.

"No, but in good time. All…in good time." He sighs, then reads his watch. "Do you think-"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to-"

"No." She gives him a warning look. "You are here to work, Tony. Not pick up snookers."

"Hookers." He corrects her. "…and she's not a hooker."

"How would you know?"

"Well, how would you know?" He puts his hands on his waist. "She a friend of yours?"

"I have no friends…Tony." She pauses as she realizes that he heard the seriousness in her tone. "…no friends here…in America."

His hands slide slowly from his hips, but he does not say a word. She can feel him staring at her, but does her best to ignore him.

"I'm going for a drink-"

"Gibbs would not approve."

"…of water…" He sighs. "See what happens when you don't let me finish?" He sees her give him a small, unrealistic smile. "Want one?"

"No. Thank you."

He waits for about forty-five seconds before leaving her side. While he does, he ponders what she said about having no friends.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, thanks for the reviews. I hope everyone has a great and safe time for the Holidays!**-Geek**.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>  
><strong>"Conversations"<strong>

McGee pushes down on a few buttons on his computer keyboard and sighs pleasantly. Ziva hears this, but only responds to it by smilingly lightly and continuing to check her emails. DiNozzo on the other hand is on full alert like a German Shepherd.

"What's with the delightfulness in your tone, Elf Lord?"

"It's none of your business, Tony."

"I know that, but when has that ever stopped me before?" He pushes his desk chair backwards and firmly places his feet on the ground. "Tell me before I come over there and give you something you'll regret."

"There's nothing you can do to me at work that will make me regret not telling you what it is that I am doing."

"I can put super glue on your keyboard."

"You've already done that."

"I could do it again."

"What, more? You used the entire bottle yesterday!"

"I've got hook-ups in the supply room. I'd be afraid, if I were you. Very, very afraid."

"I'll tell Gibbs."

"I'll tell Gibbs." DiNozzo mimics in a baby voice. "You're such a narc, McGeek."

"Okay, fine, but you're just annoying."

"Wow. I think I just felt my heart break." Sarcasm paints Tony's face. "Shut up, Probie."

"You can't make me."

"You're right." Tony shrugs. "Pests are pests for reasons. One of them being they can never shut up when they should."

"Shut up, Tony."

He chuckles. "You're not the boss of me."

Gibbs appears as if on cue and whacks Tony right on the back of his head. "Yeah, but I am."

"Naturally, boss…" DiNozzo rubs the back of his head with his hand. "Hey boss…you think you could give me some warning before you do that again?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Gibbs asks.

"Good point…" He knits his eyebrows. "…I think…"

Gibbs smirks at his leading agent before depositing his weapon and badge into his desk drawer.

* * *

><p>With a fierce look on his face, DiNozzo holds the sides of the vending machine tightly and shakes it with all the strength he has. Several agents walk by and he greets them with a sheepish grin, them waits for them to leave and he shakes it again.<p>

"This…piece of shit…" He huffs and violently kicks at the sides and front of the machine hoping his chocolate bar will fall.

"Money is required first, Tony."

He whips around to see Ziva waiting behind him, patiently, with a dollar held between her index and middle finger while her arms are folded.

He rolls his eyes. "I did put a damn dollar in there."

"Perhaps a higher power does not want you to eat a chocolate bar."

"Perhaps you'd like to shut your mouth and mind your business." His eyes darken. "Scram, David."

"I will not. This machine does not belong to you."

"Then how about using your time wisely to help me get it out of the machine."

"How do you suppose I do that?"

He wait's a moment. "Put your dollar in the machine and hit B4."

"I am not interested in a chocolate bar."

"Every woman loves chocolate."

"Hmm…" She rocks backs and forth slightly on her feet. "I do not seem to think so."

He begins to hold back a scream he knows wants to fly out of him. "I know you like chocolate. I've seen you eat chocolate."

"Hmm…" She shrugs. "Perhaps…but I do not want chocolate now."

"What a partner." He mutters, before turning back around and shaking the machine once again.

"Why is it that you can not use another dollar?"

He sighs as he keeps rocking the machine, and grunting. "…because I don't have another dollar." Pressing his face against the glass, he tries to see if he can think of a way to shake the machine in a certain spot so it will fall. "Maybe if I try to tilt and shake it…" He mutters to himself.

Ziva grins at his kookiness for a moment, then pulls out another dollar from her pants pocket and practically holds it over his head like a piece of mistletoe.

"One could always use this…" She says in what could be an angelic voice.

He snatches the dollar from over his head and looks to her. "I could kill you, David."

"Over a chocolate bar?"

"Over starvation!" He exclaims. "Why didn't you mention you had a spare dollar before?"

"I do not consider money to be spare."

"You know what I mean. I could have borrowed it."

"You didn't ask."

He opens his mouth to say something, but decides he better just get his candy bar and shove it in his mouth before his stomach makes anymore noises.

Once he hit's the number and letter of the chocolate bar, he begins to smile widely as the chocolate bar forces his original one forward, making it fall, and the second one comes tumbling out after it.

Bending down, he snatches the two chocolate bar up from its deposit box and eagerly begins to tear off the wrapper on one of them.

"You owe me."

"All I see, taste, want, need, and know right now is chocolate."

"What would you do without me?"

He thinks for a moment, then develops a wicked grin on his face. Taking a bite of his chocolate bar, he lets it melt slightly in his mouth. "I'd push your desk on the side of my desk and have the biggest desk in the entire squad-room."

"I never knew you could be so…"

"Clever?"

"Stupid. Actually." Her tone serious.

His wicked grin fades instantly, before he walks away. When she realizes he is out of sight, she grins to herself before putting her dollar inside the vending machine.

* * *

><p>Gibbs sits in front of his computer screen and pretends to know what he is doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he can senses that DiNozzo wants to say something, but does not know how to open his mouth and just say it.<p>

"Something you want, DiNozzo?"

"Of course not, boss." He answers quickly. "…is there anything you want? Coffee?"

Gibbs lifts his fourth cup of coffee of the day from his desk. With it in his hand, he decides to take a sip. After it finishes scolding the inside of his mouth and his throat, he glances at DiNozzo again.

"…something on your mind?"

"No." He answers quickly again. "…something on yours?"

Gibbs shrugs. "No, other than the idea that if you don't come right out with what it is you want to say, I'll have to get it out of you."

He smirks. "How are you going to do that?"

"Rip it outta ya."

DiNozzo's eyes are as large as dinner plates. "I better tell you."

"You better." Gibbs confirms.

Waiting a minute or so, DiNozzo looks over at Ziva's desk before looking back at Gibbs. "It's about Ziva."

Gibbs pushes himself away from his computer and leans over his desk a little; intently listening.

"The other night at the banquet she let something slip that's just been bothering me."

Gibbs begins to smirk as he thinks of something witty to say, but it soon falls when he notices how serious DiNozzo is continuing to be. "…'bout what?"

"Her lack of friends." He sees his superior not really understanding, so he continues. "She's been in this country for two years and she claims she had no friends within the country."

Gibbs shrugs. "Could be true. Her job is demanding. Our job is demanding." He shrugs again. "She's had much more time to develop all sorts of relationships outside the country than in the country."

DiNozzo begins to feel like an idiot for even mentioning it in the first place, but he pushes forward anyway. "She caught herself after she let it slip. It was almost as if she didn't want anyone to know."

"Maybe she didn't." Gibbs says as easily as he can.

Tony scoots closer to his desk. "Well…doesn't that seem a little shady?"

The Marine begins to ponder the idea, but only responds with a shrug.

"I guess I'm just nuts." DiNozzo says sarcastically.

"No." Gibbs shakes his head slightly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you're wrong. It's better to just leave things as they are. If you try to get more out of her, you'll piss her off."

His watches as his superior gets back to nearly staring lifelessly at his computer screen, and fights the urge to mutter something under his breath.

Sometimes he hates when his boss is so damn passive.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays to everyone!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

**"On The Job"**

McGee uses his tweezers to clip the corner of the bloody Christmas card. Opening an evidence bag he carefully drops it inside as to not smear the could-be fingerprint the back of the card.

"I know Christmas is all about red and green, but this is just too much." DiNozzo comments, then takes another picture of the victim that lays at the same level of his feet.

A beautifully decorated Christmas Tree sits, lit, in a corner where two walls meet, in front of a large window with its curtains slightly open.

"There is something Abby-ish about this scene." DiNozzo continues. "Well…anyone in here agree?"

"Shut up, DiNozzo." Gibbs holds back the urge to head-slap him. "Pictures?"

DiNozzo lets his index finger slip and within seconds Gibbs is blinded by the flash. When his vision has adjusted and he can see again his lips grow tighter as DiNozzo's eyes grow bigger.

"That was an accident boss, but I gotta say when the photo comes out, you are going to look so-"

Gibbs rips the camera out of his hands and pulls it upwards so the strap rips from around his neck. Tossing the camera to Ziva who somewhat expects the incoming object, he grunts.

"Don't ever…EVER…do that again."

DiNozzo nods, but stands in place awaiting the hardest whack to the back of his head he has ever had. After several seconds he doesn't feel the familiar sting, so he turns and walks away to investigate a different part of the crime scene.

"What'd you find on the body, Ziva?"

"Nothing." She walks around the body again. "I did not find a wallet or any sort of identification."

"If you ask me, boss-"

"I didn't." Gibbs eyes his Italian agent. "Ma-Gee, what'd you find around the body?"

"This." He holds up the evidence bag with the Christmas card in it at such an exact pace he almost seems like he runs on batteries and he as a switch, when around Gibbs. "Bloody Christmas card."

"Addressed to our victim?"

"Uh, addressed to no one." McGee's lower lips stick out a little further as he shrugs a his shoulders a bit. "Seems kinda odd."

"Ya think, MaGee?" Gibbs doesn't wait for a response because he knows his tech agent would not dare to speak again unless spoken to. "Anyone see any sign of Ducky?"

Tony stands next to Ziva. "Well if he let the autopsy gremlin drive, he's probably stuck in a ditch somewhere."

The team falls silent and just waits.

* * *

><p>Her hands fall under the facet to catch the cold water no one at this time of the year wants to even think about, never-mind feel on any part of their body.<p>

Sighing, she splashes the freezing liquid onto her face and waits with her head bent over the sink. With every droplet of water that rolls down her face and falls from her chin, she feels her walls begin to shake and pulsate with rage.

* * *

><p>DiNozzo flips through a magazine he has no business bringing to work and imagines what his Christmas will be like. "Two more days, McElf. Two more days…" He flips a page merrily. "I'm tingling with excitement!"<p>

"You sure you're not coming down with something?"

"Funny. Probie." DiNozzo turns another page. "Just because nobody loves you, especially on Christmas, doesn't mean you have to be a little man…unless you are a little man…" He looks at him from head to toe, then a grin begins to form "…little man…"

McGee reaches for a dull pencil and throws it at Tony's head.

"HEY!" He nearly falls off the chair. "Cut it out! You nearly took out one of my eyes."

McGee shrugs. "You still have the other one."

Tony turns his nose upwards a little. His hands still holding the magazine open. "You smell bad."

"Would have expected you to do better than that, Tony."

"Well I expected you to have come out of the closet by now, but surprise-surprise McFairy, you're still hiding your pixie dust inside your purse."

"You have never seen me in a purse."

"That you know of." He gives a sly smile.

"I don't even own a purse."

"…that you know of…" His smile grows wider.

McGee glares at his talkative partner. "I hate you."

DiNozzo smiles brightly at his upset partner. "Aw. I love you too, McHater."

Closing his magazine, DiNozzo quickly puts it inside his file cabinet and secures it with a slam. Banging around at the top and the sides of it, he makes a ear-bleeding bing, bang, boom.

"I don't understand why you're allowed to have one of those things so close to your desk."

"Well, I'm special. That's why it comes before my name."

McGee stills his fingers. "Uh…and what would the special before my name mean?"

DiNozzo smiles as if he is the Grinch with the most awful thought in the world throbbing at the tip of his head. "What did the special in your name mean when you were a little kid, McGeek?"

McGee reaches for another pencil, then lets it go when he realizes Gibbs is approaching the squad-room.

Standing behind DiNozzo, Gibbs listens quietly.

"Don't even try it, McGee." DiNozzo warns as he eyes the pencil that threatens to make contact with his face. "I can hurt you."

"I wish you weren't such a jerk."

"I wish you weren't such a jerk." DiNozzo whines, then sticks his tongue out like a bratty child. "You're such a baby, McCryer."

"Hey, I'm not a baby. I just don't like it when people call me names."

"Well get used to it because you've got a face that subjects you to insults until the day you leave this terrible, terrible world-"

Gibbs puts his coffee in his other hand, then whacks DiNozzo on the back of his head.

McGee smiles; satisfaction written all over his full and healthy face.

DiNozzo glares and winces at the same time.

"What should you be doing?" Gibbs asks while he still lingers behind his leading agent.

"Uh…" DiNozzo ponders the question as he begins to develop a headache. "…working on the case?"

"Yeah." Gibbs steps ahead of him and turns around to look at him. "Get to it, chatter box."

McGee breathes a chuckle at DiNozzo's new nickname.

"Right, boss." DiNozzo says lowly; slightly red in the face.

A moment of silence passes as McGee waits for his bosses orders and questions, and DiNozzo plants himself inside his desk chair.

"What've ya got, McGee?"

"A rash."

"DINOZZO!" Gibbs hollers; extremely irritated. "WAS I TALKING TO YOU?"

"No. Sorry, boss." DiNozzo looks sheepishly at his computer screen.

McGee wait's a second, then realizes that Gibbs irritation is on the verge of shifting from DiNozzo, to him.

"Talk."

Nodding, McGee begins to pull up information on his computer.

"Don't show me. Tell me."

McGee watches as Gibbs practically inhales what could possibly be half or all of his steaming hot coffee.

"Uh…" McGee swallows. "I located the paper company that printed the Christmas card."

"Name."

"Printing Paper Palace."

"Wow." DiNozzo says somewhat lowly. "It doesn't get much cliché than that."

Gibbs' eyes roll to the side as he does his best to ignore the comment.

"Where?"

"Just at the corner. Near the bookstore." McGee takes his hands off his keyboard. "I could go with you."

"You go." Gibbs orders, then tosses a look to DiNozzo. "Take him with you."

"You serious, boss?" McGee practically whines with his eyes, but his voice doesn't do a bad job either.

Gibbs smirks. "Do I look serious?"

McGee waits for a moment, then breaks into a tiny smile. "No?"

Gibbs loses his smirk and his eyebrows seem to become pointier. "Get up. Go." He spits at McGee.

"Yes, boss."

Tony watches as McGee rises from his chair slowly; stepping backwards and nearly fall backwards over his chair. Grabbing his backpack, he tries his best to slink past Gibbs and the open space without any part of him touching his frightening looking boss.

"Gee McGee-"

"DiNozzo. Don't. Speak." Gibbs narrows his eyes at him. "Go. Now."

"…" DiNozzo closes his mouth, grabs his bag, and rushes to the awaiting elevator doors.

Sitting down, Gibbs takes the last drink of his coffee then throws the empty container in his trashcan. Clearing his throat a little, he looks out the large windows and notices a few snowflakes dancing in the air.

As he drags his eyes away from the windows he notices that his Liaison Officer is not present. Knitting his eyebrows he puts on his glasses and reads the tiny numbers. As he puts his glasses away he rises from his chair and decides to visit Abby's lap in hopes that she will have news for him and he will meet Ziva in his travels.

* * *

><p>Stopping dead in her tracks, Ziva begins to think quickly as she begins to pull the collar of her coat up. Covering her neck and most of her face, she ducks into the space between two buildings; hoping she is completely out of sight from her partners.<p>

Grinning, Jackson crosses the street as if all the cars have stopped or slowed for him to cross. Once on the other side of the street he sneaks up behind her and grabs her by her sides.

With her heart pounding, she quickly pushes his hands from her sides and fights an instant reaction to hurt him.

"Who are we hiding from this afternoon, Ziva?" His eyes twinkle as he leans in for a kiss. When she pulls back, his eyes twinkle even more. "Something tells me it's me you're hiding from."

"What are you doing here, Jackson?"

"Standing in front of the woman I love."

"I told you to never show yourself when I am at work."

"There's a lot of things you've told me never to do." He shrugs; cockily. "I still do them."

"You are jeopardizing my position."

"Oh, and what position are you in today, Ziva?" He grins, then looks each shoulder before looking back at her. "The dutiful investigator or the stone-cold killer? Oh, my apologies. I seem to be the only one with enough coldness to kill for no good reason."

"Jackson. Stop it."

"What's the matter, love?" He tries to pin her against the wall. "Does the truth about me hurt you more when I say it rather than when you spit it into my face?"

She pushes firmly against his chest with her two hands, but he knows all of her tactics therefore he knows how to block them with his own strength.

"JACKSON!" Her voice is a violent whisper. "I have my weapon."

His mouth breaks into a sick smile, then he throws his head back. "I've got more than one, baby."

Soon his laughter turns into a cold chuckle as his breath becomes stale and cold. He breathes on her; trying to chill her.

"What is it that you want?"

"Your heart." He hollers. "Your heart…" He says in a loud whisper this time. "…but suddenly I'm just not good enough to have your heart. Suddenly I make you fucking sick to your stomach. Suddenly…you fucking ignore me as if I'm not worthy of your love."

"Jack-"

"DON'T!" His fist slams into the concrete and slightly scratches his flesh creating wounds that will begin to bleed in a few minutes. "The worst thing you ever did was tell me how you truly felt." A sick smile forms again. "If you were true to yourself before you were true to me you would have realized that the only way to get rid of me was to kill me yourself." His other fist comes to slam into the wall on the other side of her head. "You fucked yourself, Ziva. You gave me the power. You gave me the control."

Wrapping her hands around his wrists, she tries to yank them off the wall and from trapping her. "I gave you the chance to be decent!"

At the sound of that word one of his hands leaves the wall to smack her across the face. In her mind she prays that the oblivious passerby's continue to be unaware of what is happening in their semi-lit corner.

The last thing she needs is to draw attention.

Staring deep into her eyes, he watches to see what her next reaction will be, but she never reacts.

"You don't ever have to love me again. You don't even have to like me, but you will respect me, Ziva." He growls murderously. "You will respect me!"

"Never." She stands her ground and as tall as she can as her face numbs with pain.

Just then two shots are fired and the screams of civilians can be heard. Getting thrown off guard, Ziva uses this opportunity to push him away from her. As he steps back to balance himself, she sees DiNozzo fly past her with his gun drawn; the tails of his suit jacket flapping in the wind.

"NCIS! FREEZE!" He yells.

Taking one more look at Jackson, she puts the collar of her coat down, and reaches for her weapon.


End file.
